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THE-YALE-MAN 
UP-TO-DATE 

WITH 

CHARACTER 

SKETCHES 


BY 

JEAN    PARDEE 


Books  have  brought  some  men  to  knowledge, 
some  to  madness." — Petkakch 


XKW     HAVEN    CONN. 

PRICE.   LEE  cV  ADKINS  CO. 

MDCCCXCIV 


COPYRIGHTED 

By  jean   PARDEE. 

1894. 


Illustrations — By  Miss  Mary  La 
F.  Russell,  T.  Royal  Waite,  Wm. 
Burgher,  Geo.  W.  Piggott,  Julian 
Tngersoll  Chamberlaine,  Yale  '94 ; 
Raymond  M.  Crosby,  Yale  '98;  W. 
S.  Terriberry,  Yale  '93. 

Engravings — By  Clinton  V.  Weed, 
\e\v    Haven ;    H.    C.    Brown,    New 

York. 

Photographs  —  By  Pach  Bros, 
and  A.    H.  Corhin. 


TO 
THE    YALE    FACULTY 


YALE    MEN. 


£1^',^  ^  y^-^ 


<^  -  a-^ 


^  - 


PART    I. 

THE    YALE    MAN    UP    TO    DATE. 


PART    II. 

CHARACTER    SKETCHES. 


rFf 


PART    I. 

The  College  Widow,     . 
The  New  Haven  Flirt, 
The  Out-of-Town  Girl, 
The  Sweet  Girl  at  Farmington, 
The-Yale-Man-Up-to-Date, 
The  Sophomore,    . 
The  Yale  Athlete  from  the  Va 
sity  Nine,     .... 


48 


PAGE 

The  Yale  Athlete  from  the  Var- 
sity Eleven,         ...        54 
The  Room  at  Mory's,  .         .     58 

A  Corner  of  the  Viennese  Room 

at  Traeger's,  .         .         .62 

The  Freshman,  ...        66 

The  Pajama  Fiends,  .  .  .72 
The  New  Haven  Belle,  .  .  76 
A  Room  in  Vanderbilt  Hall,         .     80 


PART  II. 

PAGE 

Pop  Smith,         ....  6 

Tommy  Kilbride,  ...       9 

Arthur  Freedman,     ...         12 

"Davy" 13 

J.  G.  Hannibal  L.  W.  Silliman,  .  15 
Patrick  Henry  Murray,  .  .  17 
William  A.  Kirk,  ...  19 
Joe  Wipper,  .         .         .         .22 

Moses  Rosenblum,  ...  24 
Bob  Jackson,  .        .        .         -25 


PART    I. 


THE    VALE    MAN    UP    TO    DATE. 


"  Oh,  we  live  !     Oh,  we  live  !  " 

— Mrs.  Brozviting. 


^, 


^T'HE  Yale  man  up  to  date  !  The 
'  title  is  an  interesting  and  a 
complex  one  to  treat.  The  Yale 
man,  from  the  primeval  days  of  the 
College  up  to  the  present  time  a 
subject  for  discussion,  has  waxed  so 
much  more  important,  so  much  more 
interesting  in  these  last  few  years, 
that  it  will  take  a  long  breath  and 
a  tremendous  outlay  of  paper  and 
ink  to  faithfully  portray  him. 

Yea,  \enly,  he  is  a  creature  of 
fads  and  fancies,  yet  not,  as  a  rule, 
feminine,  as  the  statement  might  im- 
ply. He  is  not,  however,  the  absol- 
utely independent  creature  he  was 
in  the  good  old  days  o(  life-at-Yale. 


The  spirit  of  democracy,  once  the 
very  life  and  atmosphere  of  the  Uni- 
versity, is  somewhat  vitiated.  A 
radical  change  has  been  crystalliz- 
ing and  shaping  itself  into  a  partial 
demolition  of  the  old  democratic 
feeling.  Indeed,  each  year  marks 
the  sturdy  growth  of  a  certain  con- 
servatism among  the  men  that  may, 
in  time,  infuse  into  the  swift-flow- 
ing current  of  past  belief  in  the 
"rights  and  chances"  of  all  stu- 
dents the  sluggish  blood  that  per- 
mits but  few  men  to  stand  upon 
their  own  merits,  and  regards  no 
longer  wealth  and  social  prestige  as 
mere  relatives  in  the  career  of  the 
average  man  at  Yale. 

This  gradual  decay  of  democracy 
at  Yale  is  somewhat  due,  perhaps, 
to  the  large  gifts  that  have  been 
made  the  College  during  the  last 
few  years.  Out  of  these  gifts  have 
sprung  magnificent  new  dormitor- 
ies.   Vanderbilt  Hall,  located  on  the 

24 


Campus,  with  its  front  facing  Chapel 
street,  its  back  windows  overlooking 
the  Campus,  with  the  view  extend- 
ing to  the  rear  of  the  Elm  street 
dormitories,  is  the  most  magnificent 
building  Yale  has  ever  had.  Osborn 
and  Welch  Halls  pale  into  insigni- 
ficance when  thrown  into  compari- 
son with  it ;  and  even  Durfee,  here- 
tofore the  most  popular  of  all  the 
dormitories,  its  very  atmosphere  be- 
ing fraught  with  sweet  and  tender 
associations,  has,  perforce,  resigned 
Itself  to  the  inevitable,  and  stands 
to-day  second  in  the  race. 

Impossible  as  it  may  seem  to  the 
casual  observer  of  human  nature  for 
a  choice  of  dormitories  to  mfluence 
the  career  of  a  man  at  college,  it 
would  take  but  a  short  time  to  con- 
vince the  dissenter  of  the  import- 
ance of  it,  if  only  he  would  look 
into  the  matter  seriously.  As  an 
illustration,  let  us  set  forth  the  poor 
ventilation,    the    squeaking,    rickety 


old  stairs,  and  the  dingy,  unattrac- 
tive walls  of  South  Middle.  Take 
in  comparison  the  high,  well-ven- 
tilated rooms  in  Vanderbilt  Hall, 
with  their  luxurious  baths,  their 
steam  heat  and  their  electric  Hghls. 

As  a  natural  sequence  it  follows 
that  the  rooms  there  rent  for  more 
than  at  South  Middle,  and  that  the 
sons  of  rich  men  are  the  ones  who 
are  apt  to  secure  them.  'J"o  be 
sure  there  is  a  class  distinction  pre- 
served, and  drawing  for  lirst  choice 
has  cut  many  a  rich  man  out  of  a 
room  in  Vanderbilt,  and  yet,  as  a 
good  illustration,  the  vast  difference 
in  the  life  of  the  men  who  live  at 
South  Middle  and  that  of  the  oc- 
cupants of  Vande.bilt  Hall  has  sug- 
gested itself  as  a  "survival  of  the 
fittest." 

Thus  banded  together  by  location 
of  rooms  and  the  closer  lie,  perhaps, 
of  transmitted  mutual  likes  and  dis- 
likes, it  becomes  impossible  for  the 
26 


old-time  famous  class  spirit  to  exist 
as  absorbingly  as  of  yore.  To  keep 
up  to  the  code  of  laws  laid  down 
by  the  conventionalities  instituted 
at  Yale  requires  a  certain  amount 
of  money,  usually  not  small,  and  sel- 
dom wholly  indispensable  ;  so  that, 
while  the  poor  man  is  not  debarred 
the  chance  of  success,  the  odds  are 
double  those  that  were  against  him 
in  the  early  days  of  the  University. 
The  growth  of  the  College  dur- 
ing the  last  few  years  is  largely  due 
to  the  energetic  efforts  of  President 
Dwight,  under  whose  regime  most 
of  the  magnificent  gifts  have  been 
made.  He  is  acknowledged  one  of 
the  most  successful  of  the  several 
brilliant  men  who  have  occupied  the 
Presidential  chair,  and  the  Univer- 
sity has  much  for  which  it  should 
be  grateful  to  him. 


,--  ^:  !     V  .   )    . 


"  Consider  how  far  the  vanity  of 
mankind  has  laid  itself  out  in 
dress."  —Sh-  R.  Steele. 


THE  decline  of  democracy  at 
Yale  has  practically  changed 
the  entire  life  of  the  students.  In 
the  old  days,  but  little  attention 
was  given  to  the  details  of  dress. 
Now  it  is  one  of  the  features 
of  the  University,  and,  while  not 
judging  a  man  entirely  by  his 
clothes,  the  "  birds  of  brilliant  plum- 
age "  naturally  soar  higher  and  see 
more  of  life  at  its  best  than  they 
of  the  more  sombre  feathers. 

Yale  men  are  never  dudes— let  it 
be  said  to  their  credit ;  they  have  a 
certain  style  of  their  own,  however. 


that  marks  them  the  men  of  fash- 
ion and  characterizes  them  as  well- 
dressed  men  among  the  people  of 
the  outer  world.  The  tendency  to 
loud  dressing,  never  very  strong, 
has  somewhat  developed  within  the 
last  few  years,  and  the  men  dress 
more  conspicuously  each  season.  In 
the  early  spring.  New  Haven  might 
easily  be  taken  for  the  "advance 
sheets"  of  summer  life  at  Narra- 
gansett  Pier,  for  with  the  first 
warm  day  broad-brimmed  straw 
hats,  white  duck  trousers,  summer 
shirts,  and  loose  coats  are  in  order. 
In  twos  and  threes,  in  quartettes 
and  double  quartettes,  these  jaun- 
tily dressed  sons  of  Eli  saunter  first 
up  and  then  down  Chapel  street — 
the  great  promenade  of  New  Ha- 
ven. They  stare  at  the  pretty 
girls,  they  smoke  their  briar-wood 
pipes,  they  do  everything  and  any- 
thing they  please,  for  Yale  men 
run  the  town  ! 

30 


THE   COLLEGE    WIDOW. 


"To  settle  down  becomes  to  many 
of  them  an  impossibility." 


What  wonder,  then,  that  the  New- 
Haven  girl  thinks  it  the  most  beau- 
tiful place  in  all  the  world  in  which 
to  live  !  What  wonder  that  she  loses 
her  heart  to  half  a  dozen  or  more 
out  of  every  class,  and  what  won- 
der that  with  all  her  cardiac  vacil- 
lations she  suddenly  awakens  to 
the  dreadful  realization  of  how 
small  and  unimportant  is  her  hold 
upon  these  creatures  of  her  adora- 
tion ;  and  as  she  sees  class  after 
class  slipping  away  from  her  and 
realizes,  alas !  too  late,  that  her 
youth  is  gone,  what  wonder  that 
she  sighs  over  her  past  follies  and 
wishes  she  had  never  seen  New 
Haven  nor  known  any  of  these 
same  fascinating  students !  The 
average  New  Haven  girl  to  the 
average  student  at  Yale  figures 
more  as  a  pastime  than  anything 
else,  and  while  there  are  glorious 
exceptions  always  to  prove  the  rule, 
it    is    almost     a     ratified    agreement 

33 


between  them  that  nothing  serious 
is  intended,  no  matter  how  des- 
perate the  flirtation  on  either  side. 
And  so  it  happens  that  nine  out  of 
every  ten  New  Haven  girls  make 
wonderfully  sympathetic  flirts,  an 
accomplishment  that  so  increases 
with  age  and  experience  that  to 
"settle  down"  becomes  to  many  of 
them  an  impossibility,  and  renders 
the  position  of  a  "  college  widow " 
less  unbearable  than  it  would  be 
under  ordinary  circumstances. 

One  would  suppose,  however, 
that  the  Yale  man  s  attitude  toward 
the  out-of-town  girl  — no  matter  how 
glaringly  unattractive  she  may  be 
—would  gall  the  New  Haven  girl 
into  taking  action  against  him  ;  for 
to  be  picked  out  as  the  most 
attractive  girl  he  has  ever  known 
during  Freshman  and  Sophomore 
years,  only  to  be  supplanted  by 
some  freckled,  pug-nosed  out-of- 
town    monstrosity  for   his  Jr.  Prom. 

34 


THE  NEW   HAVEX   FLIRT, 


r 


"And  so  it  happens  that  nine  out  of  every  ten 
make  sympathetic  flirts,'' 


THE    OUT-OF-TOWN    GIRL. 


"  Those  horrid  out-of-town  girls  are  almost  always  perfect 
beauties. 


should  be  sufficiently  humiliating  to 
ostracize  him  among  New  Haven 
girls  during  the  rest  of  his  college 
career.  But  no;  the  freckled,  pug- 
nosed  monstrosity  once  disposed  of, 
the  New  Haven  girl  thus  tempo- 
rarilj'  deposed  gladly  receives  his 
explanation  and  things  go  on  as 
before.  His  diploma  received,  off 
he  skips,  and  the  next  thing  Miss 
New  Haven  knows  of  his  doings  is 
chronicled  by  the  receipt  of  cards 
announcing  his  marriage  to  that 
same  "  freckled,  pug-nosed  monstros- 
ity "  he  had  up  for  his  Jr.  Prom. 

Don't,  however,  misjudge  the 
out-of-town  girl  by  this  one  broad 
example;  for  Yale  men,  as  a  rule, 
import  such  charming  specimens 
that  even  the  New  Haven  girl 
with  her  bruised  feelings  can  but 
admit  that  his  taste  is  excellent, 
and  that  "  those  horrid  out-of-town 
girls"  are  almost  always  "perfect 
beauties." 


It  is  the  Farmington  girl,  perhaps, 
who  figures  most  prominently  at 
Yale  as  the  out-of-town  girl  par 
excellence.  Farmington  covers  a 
vast  territory,  including  girls  from 
the  East,  the  West  and  the  in- 
dolent sunny  South,  so  that  the 
men  are  not  restricted  to  any  par- 
ticular t^^pe,  but  can  pick  and 
choose  to  their  hearts'  content. 
And  Farmington  is  in  very  truth  a 
Yale  school.  One  of  the  potent 
reasons,  perhaps,  for  the  popularity 
of  the  blue  pennant  there  is  that 
Miss  Porter  is  the  sister  of  the 
late  President  Noah  Porter,  and 
has  a  fondness  for  the  College 
with  a  love  for  the  students  quite 
natural  in  view  of  her  brother's 
pride  in  all  that  pertained  in  any 
way  to  Yale.  It  follows  then  that 
the  Yale  men  are  the  favored 
ones  at  Farmington,  and  on  the 
other  hand,  that  the  Farmington 
girls  put  at  a  discount  any  other 
girls  in  the  country. 


THE   SWEET   GIRL 

AT 

FARMINGTON. 


# 


;/<■?(; 


'y  af< 


"The  Farmington  girls  put  at  a  discount  any  other  girls 
in  the  country." 


"THE 
YALE-MAN-UP-TO-DATE 


"  The  life  from  the  very  beginning 
has  a  tendency  to  turn  the  callow 
youth  into  a  man-about-tovvn." 


Drink,  pretty  creature,  drink  !  " 

—  Wordsworth. 


IT  is  an  undisputed  fact  that  the 
up-to-date  Yale  man  becomes  a 
man  in  ahnost  every  instance  be- 
fore he  has  attained  his  twenty- 
first  year.  The  bloom  of  youth 
still  upon  his  cheek,  the  down  of 
an  incipient  moustache  only  just 
beginning  to  show,  the  half  devel- 
oped figure — are  all  only  outward 
indications  of  the  boy.  Few,  if  any, 
pass  through  Freshman  year  with- 
out having  had  the  bloom  rubbed 
off  or  at  least  diminished,  and  the 
student  who  does  not  know  the 
world  at  the  end  of  Sophomore 
year  is  a  cad  indeed. 


The  life  from  the  very  beginning 
has  a  tendency  to  initiate,  to  devel- 
op, to  straighten  out  the  awkward 
lines,  to  turn  the  callow  youth  intch 
a  man  -  about  -  town,  with  all  the 
easy  indifference  of  manner,  the 
sang  froid  that  belonged  a  decade 
ago  to  the  man  of  thirty  or  forty 
years'   experience. 

In  Freshman  year  the  chances 
for  knocking  about  are  somewhat 
limited,  but  in  Sophomore  year 
every  opportunity  is  afforded  the 
student  to  see  life  and  to  live  it- 
It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  and  one 
then  worthy  of  note,  that  as  a  rule 
the  Yale  man  of  to-day  has  the 
strongest  kind  of  character;  for,  while 
the  sporting  contingent  is  a  large 
one,  there  is  something  within  most 
of  the  students  that  guides  them 
over  all  the  shoals,  landing  them 
safely  upon  the  shore  of  futurity, 
with  perhaps  a  few  slight  blem- 
ishes, seldom,  however,  with  ineffa- 
ceable ones. 

46 


THE   SOPHOMORE. 


"In  Sophomore  year  every  opportu- 
nity's afforded  the  student  to  see  life  and 
to  live  it." 


The  men,  while  not  permitted  to 
shirk  their  studies  and  while  rigidly 
"  kept  up  to  the  mark "  by  the 
faculty,  manage  nevertheless,  to 
weave  in  a  lot  of  holiday  fun. 

Athletics  have  long  furnished  a 
diversion.  'I'hey  are,  in  fact,  a 
world-wide  source  of  interest,  con- 
stituting to-day  a  part  of  the  Uni- 
versity almost  as  indispensable  as 
the  buildings  themselves.  To  be 
prominently  identified  with  athlet- 
ics, therefore,  furnishes  a  man  a 
"pull"  both  with  the  College  and 
the  world  at  large. 

The  sporting  contingent  is  the 
one  that  has  the  most  fun,  as  it  is 
also  the  one  that  numbers  many  of 
the  most  popular  men,  A  glimpse 
into  Moriarty's  restaurant  after  a 
big  game  out  at  the  field,  when 
the  students  are  in  truth  celebrating, 
gives  one  as  correct  an  idea  as  any 
of  the  fun  they  have  on  occasions. 
'  Mory's,"  as    it    has   been    dubbed 

49 


from  the  very  beginning,  was 
started  in  1858.  For  years  Moriarty 
himself  ran  it,  and  after  his  death 
Mrs.  Moriarty  took  possession.  At 
present  it  is  in  charge  of  Edward 
Oakley,  whom  the  students  call 
"Eddie."  Oakley  is  very  popular 
with  them.  His  restaurant  is  the 
best  patronized  of  any  in  New 
Haven,  with  the  exception  perhaps 
of  Traeger's,  It  is  exclusively  for 
College  men.  There  are  two  rooms 
down  stairs  that  are  used  by  them. 
A  corner  of  the  favorite  one  is 
given  in  the  sketch. 

On  one  side,  on  the  wall,  hangs 
the  top  of  a  table  that  for  years 
occupied  the  center  of  the  room. 
"  Mory  "  allowed  the  men  to  carve 
their  initials  upon  its  polished  sur- 
face. When  it  was  so  covered  with 
initials  and  dates  as  to  permit  of 
no  more,  he  hung  it  as  an  orna- 
ment, substituting  another  in  its 
place,  which  is  going  through  the 
same  process  of  indentation. 

50 


THE    YALE    ATHLETE 
ERO,M    THE    VARSITY    NINE. 


"Athletics  have  long  furnished  a  diversion, 
constituting  to-day  a  part  of  the  University 
almost  as  indispensable  as  the  buildings  them- 
selves." 


THE    YALE    ATHLETE 
FROM    THE    VARSITY    ELEVEN. 


'wo  ul.o  are  promir.ently  idcntifed  with  athletic^ 


The  loving  cup,  an  institution  at 
Yale,  is  especially  a  fad  down  at 
"  Mory's/'  When  in  jovial  mood 
after  a  big  victory,  the  men  in 
cliques  of  a  dozen  or  so  collect 
around  the  tables,  the  loving  cup 
is  brought  out,  and  all  quaff  from 
its  depths  some  delicious  concoction 
that  only  "  Mory  "  and  his  success- 
ors know  how  to  brew. 

In  '85  a  club  calling  itself  the 
"velvet  club"  was  organized. 
Each  year  marks  the  enlistment  of 
six  new  members,  four  being  taken 
from  the  Academic  department  and 
two  from  Sheff.  The  cup  used  by 
the  members  of  this  very  exclusive 
club  is  a  large,  handsomely  de- 
signed pewter  one.  The  names  of 
the  men  who  are  taken  in  each 
year  are  inscr'bed  upon  its  surface. 
The  club's  appellation  was  given  it 
because  of  the  smoothness  of  the 
drink  composed  of  champagne  and 
porter.       A       Harvard      man      once 


invited  to  spend  an  evening  with 
the  "velvet  club,"  returned  to 
Cambridge  most  enthusiastic.  He 
declared  to  his  friends  that  the 
loving  cup  used  at  Yale  seemed 
bottomless,  so  many  times  did 
they  all  drink  from  it.  The  Yale 
men,  on  the  other  hand,  rated  that 
Harvard  student  the  biggest  kind 
of  a  "  tank,"  yet,  without  expos- 
tulation paid  an  immense  bill  for 
Eddie's  surreptitious  filling  of  the 
cup  that  has  since  given  them  such 
a  reputation  throughout  collegedom. 

"Mory's"  is  the  great  place  for 
Welsh  rarebits  and  golden  bucks. 
Ale,  too,  is  one  of  the  specialties. 
It  is  served  in  old  English  pitchers 
called  Tobys.  The  entire  house, 
for  that  matter,  is  done  up  after 
an  English  house,  the  bar  being  an 
exact  reproduction  of  those  found 
in  old  English  inns. 

"Mory's"  is  seldom  done  over. 
i'/  The  students  are  greatly  opposed  to 

56 


THE    ROOM   AT    "MORY'S. 


Mory's  is  the  great  place  for  Welsh  rarebits  and  golden  bucks 


any  change.  An  example  of  their 
fondness  for  the  familiar  environ- 
ments of  the  place  was  given 
several  years  ago,  when  a  new 
and  more  modern  wall-paper  was 
put  upon  the  two  rooms  used  by 
them.  As  "Eddie"  expressed  it, 
the  "kick"  was  so  tremendous  he 
was  obliged  to  go  out  and  hunt  up 
some  other  as  near  like  the  old 
as  possible,  which  only  in  half 
pacified  his  patrons,  who  said  it  was 
a  "  living  shame  to  thus  discard 
the  old  love  for  the  new." 

"Fly  Loo"  and  "Cutting  the 
London  Directory "  were  in  days 
gone  by  among  the  old  standbys 
in  the  way  of  amusements  at 
"  JVIory's.  "Fly  Loo"  is  a  game 
that  seldom  holds  the  attention 
until  the  contents  of  a  certain  num- 
ber of  Tobys  have  been  disposed 
of.  It  then  becomes  astonishingly 
interesting.  Every  man  takes  a 
lump   of    sugar.     By    mutual    agree- 

59 


merit  they  decide  how  much  money 
shall  be  put  under  each  lump. 
Sometimes  it  is  five  cents,  some- 
times ten,  and  so  on  up  to  any 
amount  agreed  upon.  Then,  many 
of  them  nodding,  all  of  them  a 
little  the  worse  for  wear,  they  sit 
patiently  watching  their  sugar.  The 
first  one  to  have  a  fly  light  upon 
his  lump  calls  "Fly  Loo!"  which 
gives  him  the  bank  or  a  right  to 
all  the  money  put  up  by  his 
nodding  friends. 

"Cutting  the  London  Directory" 
is  another  old  game.  This  one  is 
to  decide  who  shall  pay  for  the 
first  round  of  drinks.  A  back  num- 
ber of  the  London  Directory  is 
brought  out.  Selecting  a  letter  of 
the  alphabet,  each  man  in  rotation 
opens  the  book  at  random.  The 
one  who  turns  to  the  letter  the 
greatest  distance  from  the  one  se- 
lected is  obliged  to  do  the  treating. 


A    CORNER    OF 

THE    VIENNESE    ROOM 

AT    TRAEGER'S. 


One  of  the  favorite  dropping -in  places  for  the  students. 


Hickory,  Dickory,  Dock!" 

—Nursery  Rhyvies. 


HERE 

is  hard- 
ly a  man  in 
college  who 
doesn't  know 
the    cuckoo 


'''^        ^^  W     <^all    of    the 

-  ^  rr^=^^--^'^^^A.    old   clock   in 
^*^'  the      little 
back    room    at 
.,  ,         Traeger's.    Trae- 

ger's  is  vastly  popular— a  pop- 
ularity that  is  steadily  on  the  in- 
crease. Like  Mory's,  it  is  named 
for  its  proprietor.  In  this  Viennese 
room  with  its  stained  glass  win- 
dows, its  dark  wood  wainscoted 
finish,  its  modishness  in  the  mat- 
ter of  cornice  shelves,  with  their 
decoration  of  steins  and  pewter 
mugs,  the  small  square  tables 
and  high -backed  carved   chairs, 


the  great  fire  -  place  and  the  gen- 
eral air  of  luxury  and  comfort  that 
pervade  it.  Every  thing  combines 
to  make  it  one  of  the  favorite 
"dropping  in  places"  for  the  stu- 
dents. It  is  surely  a  close  sec- 
ond in  popularity  to  Mory's,  many, 
in  fact,  claiming  that  to-day  it 
stands  foremost  on  the  list. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  Fresh- 
men are  received  neither  at  Mory's 
nor  at  Traeger's,  but  for  that  matter 
there  are  no  cafes  in  town,  patron- 
ized by  upper  class  men,  that  cater 
to  them.  In  June,  after  they  have 
taken  their  examinations,  and  are 
enrolled  as  Sophomores,  they  are 
permitted  their  first  glimpse  of 
these  places.  "Eddie"  tells  many 
an  amusing  story  of  their  "  fresh- 
ness" upon  these  occasions.  Most 
of  them  swagger  in,  and  with  an 
assumed  dignity  of  manner  order, 
in  a  very  loud  voice,  "  Beer,  sir  ! " 
The  die  is  cast,  they  have  irretriev- 

64 


THE    FRESHMAN. 


Rig  glasses  of  sweet,  pure  milk 
are   served   to   them." 


ably  stamped  themselves  with  the 
Freshman  hall-mark ;  for  the  wait- 
er, in  a  voice  cold,  yet  not  unmixed 
with  suppressed  amusement,  makes 
answer,  "  We  do  not  serve  beer 
here,  you  know."  "Oh!"  exclaims 
"freshie;"  then  lowering  the  voice, 
he  says,  confidentially,  "  Let  me 
have  a  plate  of  ice-cream,  please," 
But  the  Freshmen  have  their  own 
particular  "joints"  all  through  the 
year,  where  weak  lemonades,  fresh- 
laid  eggs,  and  big  glasses  of  sweet, 
pure  milk  are  served,  and  where 
they  can  put  their  feet  on  the  deal- 
tables,  and  swagger  a  bit,  in  a  way 
they  consider  a  clever  imitation  of 
the  "sports"  of  the  upper  classes. 


S=- 


If   three   ladies   like   a   play, 
Take    the   whole   house 

upon    the    poets'    day." 

—Pope 


v-^^^:^    ,/-x 


DRAMATICS  among  the  men 
are  growing  every  year  in 
popularity.  Like  athletics  they  are 
becoming  an  institution  at  the  Uni- 
versity, and  are  really  very  esti- 
mable factors  in  the  development 
of  literary  and  histrionic  ability. 
The  academic  fraternities  give  a 
play  annually  at  their  chapter 
houses.  These  have  been  going 
on    for    years,    but    the    revival    of 


a  public  performance  in  which  men 
from  the  Jr.  fraternities  may  par- 
ticipate was  begun  in  '92.  The 
Chapter  plays  are  not  as  elab- 
orate nor  as  full  of  detail  as 
those  produced  before  the  public ; 
yet  they  are  said  to  be  vastly  amus- 
ing, and  to  entertain  the  students 
quite  as  much,  if  not  more,  than 
those  designed  for  all  who  will  pay 
their  "ticket  of  admission"  money. 
In  June  of  '94,  Psi  U.  presented 
a  farce  written  for  the  society  by 
a  Skull  and  Bones  man.  It  was 
clever  and  roaringly  funny,  but 
put  upon  the  stage  with  so  little 
preparation  that  the  contretemps  all 
through  were  simply  convulsing. 
One  man  who  figures  prominently 
on  one  of  the  Yale  weeklies  was 
cast  for  the  character  of  a  king. 
When  it  came  time  for  him  to  make 
his  entrance,  the  chorus  called, 
"The  King!  The  King!"  and  all 
eyes,  turned  toward  the  entrances 
69 


of  the  stage,  were  startled  by  the 
sudden  upheaval  of  a  portion  of  the 
stage  floor.  From  this  trap-door  ar- 
rangement emerged  the  king.  Then 
began  a  series  of  funny  happenings. 
The  king  had  a  song  to  sing.  He 
and  the  orchestra  did  not  harmon- 
ize— both  were  off  the  key.  With  a 
regal  wave  of  a  large  red  book  he 
carried,  in  which  was  loosely  thrown 
the  music  for  his  song,  he  stepped 
up  to  the  footlights,  and  ferociouslj- 
menacing  the  leader  of  the  orches- 
tra, demanded  better  time.  The 
king  is  said  to  have  used  some 
strong  language,  and  they  who  were 
in  the  audience  declare  this  scene 
was  the  gem  of  the  entire  perform- 
ance. In  any  event  the  play — as  are 
all  the  Chapter  plays — was  voted  a 
great  success. 

While  the  average  man  finds  the 

entire  year  well  sprinkled  with  fun 

and    amusement,   June    is    probably 

the  month  that  chronicles  the  great- 

70 


THE    PAJAMA    FIENDS. 


Mamie,  come  kiss  your  Honey  Boy. 


est  number  of  "larks."  The  bottled 
up  spirits  of  all  the  classes  are  thea 
uncorked,  and  all  sorts  and  kinds 
of  diversions  are  resorted  to.  The 
*' pajama  parade"  is  now  a  three- 
year  old  feature  of  the  month  of 
June.  The  seniors  in  their  pajamas 
assemble  on  the  Campus,  with  the 
intention  only  of  smoking  quietly 
beneath  the  light  of  a  jolly -faced 
approving  moon.  But,  up  to  date, 
the  temptation  to  break  away  from 
all  conventionalities  has  been  too 
great  for  them,  and  in  June  of  '94 
the  pajama  fiends  cut  up  all  sorts 
of  pranks,  promenading  in  reckless 
confusion  down  Chapel  street,  climb- 
ing electric  poles,  dancing  can-cans, 
and  waltzing  to  the  tunes  of  "  Boom 
de  aye"  and  "Mamie,  come  kiss 
your  honey  boy."  The  local  press 
rather  criticised  the  students  for  this 
bit  of  a  "lark,"  yet  in  defence  of 
them  one  or  two  papers  came  out 
with  articles  advocating  the  pajama 

73 


as  a  summer  costume,  to  be  adopted 
by  the  habitues  of  Bar  Harbor  and 
Narragansett  Pier. 

"Prom,  wrek"  is  the  week  of  all 
others  at  Yale.  This  occurs  twice 
during  the  year,  in  January  and  in 
June.  Both  are  exciting  and  inter- 
esting. Then  it  is  the  out-of-town 
girl  blossoms  forth  conspicuously, 
and  then  it  is  the  New  Haven 
maiden,  as  a  rule,  gives  herself  up 
to  sighing  and  repining.  Remem- 
ber, however,  that  there  have  been, 
and  ever  will  be,  a  certain  number 
of  New  Haven  girls  that  the  out-of 
town  girl  has  failed  to  relegate  to  a 
"  back  seat,"  and  that  New  Haven 
has  its  belles  even  though  we  sadly 
chronicle  the  fact  of  their  being  in 
the  minority.  It  stands  to  reason, 
then,  that  the  New  Haven  girl  who 
really  figures  as  a  belle  is  one  in 
every  sense,  dazzling  in  face  and 
figure,  captivating  in  manner  and 
in  mind. 

74 


NEW    HAVEN    BELLE. 


"One  of  those   the   out-of-town 
girl  has  failed  to  relegate  to  a  back 

seat." 


Borrowing  from  the  Illustrated 
Amej-ican  of  July  ylh,  1894,  we 
learn  that,  "  with  Vale  men,  one  of 
the  strongest  of  any  of  their  many 
prevalent  fads  is  that  of  the  decora- 
tion of  their  rooms.  It  is  almost  a 
question  of  rivalry  with  them  that 
grows  stronger  every  year.  The 
New  Haven  girl,  good-natured  to 
a  fault,  is  kept  busy  making  sofa- 
pillows  for  some  one  or  another  of 
her  '  Yale  pets.'  It  is  a  mania  at 
Vale— this  craze  for  the  sofa  pillow. 
In  almost  every  instance  a  student 
can  count  his  conquests  by  them. 
'A  girl  I  met  at  the  Junior  Prom, 
gave  me  this,'  he  tells  his  visit- 
ors; or  'one  way  over  on  Howard 
avenue  sent  me  this  ; '  and  '  I  worked 
Miss  So  and  So, -Smith  had  here 
for  the  german,  for  this,'  etc.,  etc., 
through  a  collection  of  twenty-five 
or  fifty  handsome  sofa  pillows. 

A  man's  chief  passion  is  easily  dis- 
tinguished in    the  decoration   of  his 

77 


room.  Let  him  love  the  stage,  and' 
the  walls  show  dozens  of  photo- 
graphs of  pretty  actresses  and  well- 
known  actors.  If  athletics  are  his 
hobby,  all  sorts  of  field  trophies  are 
among  his  collection  of  bric-a-brac  ; 
a  half-inflated  football  is  depended 
from  the  chandelier  ;  a  score  or  more 
of  tennis-balls,  with  a  date,  and 
perhaps  some  sentimental  inscrip- 
tion upon  their  surface,  are  hang- 
ing from  either  chandelier  or  from 
the  cabinet  shelves  over  the  fire- 
place ;  a  baseball  bat  lies  over  the 
top  of  a  handsome  gilt  frame  that 
encloses  the  face  of  a  dimpled 
Psyche  or  a  picture  of  St.  Cecilia. 

A  collector  of  'steins'  has  them 
showing  from  every  available  crev- 
ice and  corner.  A  fad  peculiar  ta 
a  great  many  men  is  that  of  the 
pipe.  The  class  numerals,  in  white 
on  Yale  blue  paper,  are  a  universal 
decoration  —  every  man  in  college 
having  a  passion  for  them.  Yale 
78 


A    ROOM    IN 
VANDERBILT    HALL. 


„.,xr^»t 

^^^IP    ''*       \      ■'       ^^ 

Rl      '^  '^ ~    '   IliiiiiiiiiiJIii 

^^^■^^^^^^^^^^^■j^^                      •.'1 

^^^^^y 

Hinsi^^B 

"A  man's  chief  passion  is  easily  distinguished  in  the  decoration  of 
his  room." 


flags,  too,  are  conspicuous  in  most 
of  the  rooms." 

Sign -stealing  is  another  popular 
craze.  A  good  collection  includes 
all  sorts  and  kinds,  ranging  from 
the  tiniest  placard  to  a  gaudy,  much 
painted  barber's  pole. 

A  scene,  perhaps  as  picturesque 
as  any  during  the  year,  occurs  usu- 
ally on  the  Saturday  following  the 
Thursday,  when  college  comes  to- 
gether. Then  it  is  the  football 
candidates  meet  at  the  Yale  field 
for  practice  and  trial  for  place  on 
the  Varsity  and  Freshmen  elevens. 
The  day,  warm  and  summer  -  like, 
finds  the  students  still  in  their  sum- 
mer clothes.  While  the  athletic  men 
disport  themselves  on  the  gridiron, 
long  lines  of  upper  and  under  class 
men  are  formed  about  the  field,  on 
the  bleachers  and  again  crowding 
into  the  grand  stand.  Everybody 
is  in  good  spirits.  Old  scores  are 
forgotten ;  the  triumphs  and  jeal- 
8r 


ousies  of  the  previous  term  drift 
for  the  time  being  into  oblivion, 
and  a  general  welcome  of  hearty 
handshaking,  with  a  "  How  are 
you,  old  chap?"  cements  a  friend- 
ship among  the  men  that  places 
them  all  on  an  equal  footing  for 
that  one  afternoon  at  least. 

Have  we  not,  then,  correctly  said 
that  the  Yale  man-up-to-date  is  a 
creature  of  fads  and  fancies  ?  Yet, 
with  all  his  faults  we  love  him  as 
do  we  approve  of  him,  for  in  all 
America  there  is  no  college  that 
has  the  men  we  find  at  Yale. 


1^ 


PART    II. 


CHARACTER   SKETCHES. 


There  is  much  in  character.' 


s^v^^^^S^ ' 


WITHOUT  no  'zaggeration, 
only  a  few  more  left," 
suggests  a  phase  of  college  life  at 
Yale  as  yet  not  touched  upon.  For 
years  Yale  has  furnished  food  for 
the  modern  journalist's  hungry  pen. 
The  rapacity  with  which  every  feat- 
ure of  life  at  the  University  has 
been  devoured  has  had  its  amusing 
side,  with  now  and  then  a  very  ser- 
ious side  as  well,  as  was  evidenced 
in  a  recent  faulty  attempt  to  lay  bare 
the  senior  societies  of  the  academic 
department. 

Athletics  have  been  prolific  in  fur- 
nishing vast  and  varied  material  to 
the  scribe,  and  one  or  two  writers 
have  devoted  their  energies  to  the 
ethics  of  Yale  slang.     In  any  event 


there  is  hardly  a  question  pertaining 
to  Yale  that  has  not  been  put  an 
hundred  times  in  an  hundred  dif- 
ferent ways.  This  character  sketch, 
however,  is  new,  and,  standing  out 
prominently  in  its  freshness  against 
a  background  of  hackneyed  subjects, 
should  attract  a  certain  amount  of 
attention. 

Yale  is  not  a  superstitious  College. 
The  men  are  too  clear-headed,  too 
free  from  the  engendered  beliefs  of 
the  ignorant  to  permit  superstition 
to  run  riot  or  to  gain  any  sort  of  a 
foothold  among  them,  yet  they  cling 
with  a  tenderness  born  of  long  ex- 
ample to  the  traditional  love  of  a 
Mascot.  Had  the  Mascot  at  Yale 
been  a  development  of  these  latter- 
day  students,  we  should  put  it  down 
as  only  another  of  the  prevalent 
fads  ;  but  indeed  the  University  has 
too  long  been  in  possession  of  one 
to  let  it  come  under  any  such  Jin  de 
Steele  term.     That  Yale  then  has  a 


Mascot — in  fact,  a  series  of  them — 
is  an  accepted  state  of  affairs  inborn 
with  every  loyal-hearted  Yalensian. 
At  present  the  Mascot  count  is 
three,  with  "Pop"  Smith  taking  the 
lead.  Next  comes  "Davy,"  and 
then  Tommy  Kilbride,  who,  up  to 
this  last  year,  was  a  never-failing 
Mascot  of  the  field.  He,  however, 
is  fast  losing  popularity  with  his 
increase  of  years  and  knowledge. 

These  character  sketches  take  in 
others  at  Vale  than  the  actual  Mas- 
cots of  either  bat  or  shell,  embracing 
a  brief  glimpse  of  such  autocrats  as 
Murray,  Kirk  and  Heberger,  with 
Wipper,  the  phenomenal  postman. 

"Pop"  Smith  is  to-day  the  Mascot 
pre-eminent.  The  oldest  character 
at  Yale,  he  deserves  his  popularity 
among  the  boys,  for  has  he  not  de- 
voted the  last  twenty-five  years  of 
his  life  to  them  to  the  exclusion 
almost  of  any  other  pursuit  ?  Like 
"Davy,"   he  may  have  a  Christian 


name  other  than  that  of  "Pop,"  but 
no  one  questions  the  possibiHty  of 
either  of  them  having  been  legiti- 
mately christened  ;  it  is  simply  that 
both  are  known  by  their  pseudonyms, 
and  that  the  wish  to  give  them  a 
more  dignified  or  classical  name  has 
never  occurred  to  any  one. 

"Pop"  is  now  growing  old  and 
somewhat  childlike,  yet  he  continues 
to  hold  his  place  in  the  Yale  boys' 
hearts  with  remarkable  tenacity. 
His  mind  is  clear  and  his  interest 
in  athletics  undiminished.  There  is 
never  a  game  at  the  field  he  does 
not  attend,  and  no  matter  what  the 
weather  nor  how  great  the  crowd, 
the  wiry  figure  and  the  delicate  face, 
framed  by  the  soft  white  hair  and 
still  whiter  beard  of  "Pop"  Smith, 
are  distinctly  outlined  against  the 
broad,  sinewy  figures  of  the  athletes. 

"Pop"  was  at  one  time  a  good 
shoemaker.  He  lived  with  his  wife 
and  children  modestly  and  happily, 
6 


pegging  away  at  his  trade,  until  one 
day   he    was    seized    with    a    violent 
desire  to  attend  one  of  the  Yale  ball 
games.     From  that  day  on  the  fever 
possessed   him,    and   his   shoes   and 
cobbler's  bench  lost  their  attraction. 
The  late  Edward  Sheffield  Porter, 
whose  grandfather  endowed  the  Shef- 
field   Scientific    School,    was    instru- 
mental  in   creating    "Pop"    a   Yale 
character.       He    never    lost    an    op- 
portunity to   talk   to   Mr,  Porter  in 
his  quaint   way  about  athletics  and 
affairs  generally  at  Yale,    Mr.  Porter 
became  much  interested  in  him.     It 
was  about  this  time  that  the  outlook 
for  the  Yale-Princeton   game   to   be 
played  in  New  York  was  very  dubi- 
ous   for    Yale,    not    even    the    most 
sanguine  student  believing  there  was 
any  chance.     Odds  were  in  favor  of 
Princeton  twenty  to  one,  and  a  cer- 
tain "blueness"   pervaded  the  very 
atmosphere    of    the    Yale    Campus, 
"Pop"    was    in    a    state    of    actual 


frenzy.  He  confided  his  grief  to 
Mr.  Porter,  who  said,  "Look  here, 
'Pop,'  I'll  send  you  down  to  the 
game  if  you'll  promise  to  offer  up 
your  prayers  for  us."  "That  I  will, 
sir,  that  I  will."  And  so  he  did, 
alternating  them  with  a  vociferous 
amount  of  applause  and  cheering  at 
every  good  play  made  by  the  wearers 
of  the  blue.  Yale  won  with  the  score 
something  quite  tremendous  in  her 
favor.  "Pop"  was  the  Mascot  of 
the  field  that  day,  and  he  sprung 
then  into  a  sudden  popularity  that 
has  strengthened  with  each  succeed- 
ing year. 

Tommy  Kilbride  was  once  the 
"baby  Mascot"  of  the  field.  He 
was  not  more  than  ten  years  old 
when  the  Yale  boys  took  him  up. 
Tommy  started  life  as  a  bootblack. 
A  familiar  figure  was  his  on  the 
streets,  with  a  box  of  blacking  and 
a  brush  strapped  over  the  shoulders, 
a  small  mongrel  black  and  tan  dog, 
8 


dragging  an  immense  carpet  rug  be- 
tween his  teeth,  running  along  by 
his  side.  This  dog  served  as  a  valet, 
and  was  trained  to  carry  the  rug  for 
his  lordship  to  kneel  upon  when  he 
blacked  the  boots  of  his  student-pat- 
rons. When  the  dog  died  Tommy 
was  inconsolable,  declaring  for  a 
time  he  should  never  black  another 
pair  of  boots. 

In  the  early  days  of  Tommy  Kil- 
bride's popularity,  so  potent  was  his 
influence  as  the  "baby  Mascot"  that 
he  was  often  taken  by  the  boys  to 
their  Princeton  and  Harvard  games 
in  New  York  and  at  Cambridge,  and 
on  one  or  two  occasions  served  as 
the  Mascot  of  the  boat  race  at  New 
London. 

The  injury  to  his  leg  occurred 
when  he  was  but  four  years  old. 
Through  the  carelessness  of  a  play- 
mate he  was  hit  with  a  slung  shot, 
The  result  was  fatal,  for  the  poor  boy  (, 
will   probably   always    be   a  cripple.    j\ij 


It  is  a  sad  life  for  him,  brightened 
somewhat  in  the  past  by  glimpses  of 
the  outside  world  during  his  brief 
reign  as  the  "baby  Mascot"  of  the 
field. 

Arthur  Freedman,  a  bright  little 
fellow  not  yet  twelve,  has  somewhat 
supplanted  Tommy  in  the  affection 
of  the  Yale  boys.  Arthur  is  the 
students'  newspaper  boy,  nearly  all 
of  them  usually  paying  the  rosy- 
cheeked,  golden-haired  chap  a  nickel 
for  an  evening  paper,  the  regular 
rate  being  three  cents.  Arthur  has 
his  favorites,  and  on  one  occasion 
recently,  when  a  certain  well  known 
New  Haven  woman  gave  him  a 
bright  pink  carnation,  with  the  ad- 
vice that  he  should  carry  it  to  his 
sweetheart,  he  made  answer,  "  I  aint 
got  no  sweetheart,  but  I'll  take  it 
to  a  customer  on  the  Campus.  I 
like  him  better  than  a  sweetheart, 
see?"  The  customer  proved  to  be 
the    son    of   a    famous    Philadelphia 


ARTHUR    FREEDTJAN. 


I  aint  got  no  sweetheart. 


lawyer,  and  later  that  evening  might 
have  been  seen  at  the  theatre  with 
Arthur's  pink  carnation  in  the  but- 
ton-hole of  his  topcoat. 

"Davy"  and  Hannibal  are  rivals. 
"Whence  they  came  and  whither 
they  shall  go"  are  undetermined 
questions.  Both  have  figured  as 
characters  at  Yale  for  the  last  twen- 
ty-five or  thirty  years.  "Davy"  is 
the  Sheff.  men's  "  heeler,"  while 
Hannibal  is  an  all  around  "sport," 
confining  himself  to  no  one  contin- 
gent, but  sharing  his  notoriety  and 
popularity  with  townspeople  and  stu- 
dents alike. 

"Davy"    and   his   little   blue  cart 
are    always    in    evidence    at    every 
game  during  the  entire  season,  and 
his    sale    of    candy   among    the    stu- 
dents on  these  occasions  amounts 
to  between  five  and  six  dollars  an 
afternoon.    "Without  no  "zagger 
ation,  only  a  few  more   lef 
the  hackneyed  phrase  with  which 

.3      ^iMf"~,Vl 


he  greets  his  custumers,  one  that 
conveys  but  little  truth  to  them, 
however,  for  the  blue  cart  is  always 
filled  to  its  very  lid,  and  when  the 
stock  runs  low  is  quickly  replen- 
ished. "Without  no  'zaggeration, 
only  a  few  more  left,"  is  therefore 
but  a  stock  phrase  with  "  Davy," 
yet  it  carries  its  meter  of  persua- 
sion, and  has  stood  him  in  good 
stead,  till  the  "lie"  has  become  but 
a  clever  advertising  ruse. 

Hannibal,  too,  is  a  candy  vender. 
His  is  homemade,  while  "Davy" 
purchases  from  the  dealers.  Hanni- 
bal, however,  has  other  resources 
than  his  saccharine  traffic.  He  has 
been  a  great  boxer  in  his  day,  and 
still  prides  himself  upon  his  agility, 
alertness  and  absolute  correctness  of 
eye.  The  art  of  sparring  is  called  by 
him  "the  manly  art  of  self  defence." 
Thus  supporting  himself  by  his  box- 
ing lessons  and  the  sale  of  candy,  he 
has   figured    as  a    New    Haven   and 

14 


Yale  character  for  the  last  twenty - 
five  years. 

It  IS  great  fun  to  hear  Hannibal 
talk.  He  has  a  fondness  for  using 
large  and  unusual  words,  most  of 
them  coined  by  himself  to  suit  the 
occasion.  In  years  gone  by  he 
was  the  students'  favorite  stump 
orator,  and  the  words  used  at  these 
occurrences  were  great  and  mighty. 
When  President  Porter  was  inaugu- 
rated it  was  Hannibal  who  headed 
the  procession  that  marched  to  the 
new  President's  residence,  and  it  was 
Hannibal  who  delivered  the  subse- 
quent address  at  the  Campus— an 
address  so  filled  with  unheard  of 
"jaw-breakers,"  that  even  the  Pro- 
fessors and  the  President  himself 
were  forced  to  marvel  at  his  un- 
heard of  learning. 

This  colored  character  is  a  genius 
in  many  ways.     With  his  right 
left  hands  on  a  single  sheet  of 
he  can  draw  simultaneously  a  #; 

15  H; 


picture  of  a  man  and  a  woman  fac- 
ing each  other.  Although  crude,  the 
work  shows  the  stroke  of  the  genius ; 
and  when  he  writes  his  name  above 
each,  the  left  hand  upside  down, 
the  right  hand  right  side  up,  one 
is  actually  much  impressed  by 
him. 

He  has  a  great  deal  of  dry  humor 
and  is  never  at  a  loss  for  a  reply. 
A  certain  wag,  meeting  him  at  the 
theatre  one  night,  said  jocosely, 
"  Hannibal,  you  look  pale  this  even- 
ing." '"Yas,  sar,"  was  the  reply, 
and  a  broad  smile  illuminated  the 
ebony  blackness  of  his  face,  "  Vas 
sar,  I  had  a  glass  ub  milk  for  my 
supper."  The  Hon.  Chauncey  M. 
Depew,  Ex-Secretary  Whitney — in 
fact,  many  prominent  men  of  the 
country  graduated  from  Yale  —  re- 
member Hannibal,  and  are  the  first 
to  greet  him  with  "  Hullo,  Prof. 
Hannibal,"  whenever  they  visit  New 
Haven. 

i6 


Another  favorite  with  all  the  old 
graduates    is     "Murray,    the    hack- 
man,"   as   he    is   inelegantly  dubbed 
by  every  student  at  the  University. 
Murray  in  reality  has  a  long,  quite 
high-sounding  name— Patrick  Henry 
Murray.      During   College   term    his 
figure  is  almost  a  landmark  on   the 
corner  of  College  and  Chapel  streets, 
directly  across  from  the  New  Haven 
House.       He    fetches    his    team    of 
horses    up    there    every    morning   of 
his  life,  to  be  on  hand  for  a  "job" 
if   any  should   come    his   way.      For 
thirty-six  years  he  has  been  the  pet 
driver  at  Yale,  and,  as  in  Hannibal's 
case,    all    the    prominent    graduates 
take    great    pains    to    shake    hands 
with     him     whenever     they    are     in 
town. 

Patrick  Henry  is  very  jealous  o 
his  prestige.  It  would  quite  break 
his  heart  should  any  one  supplant 
him,  or  should  he  ever  really  be 
"laid  upon  the  shelf."  But  one 
17 


doesn't  anticipate  any  such  event 
in  the  near  future,  for  he  is  a  stur- 
dily-built, rugged  specimen  of  the 
good  old  Irish  type,  and  is  surely 
good  for  a  number  of  years  yet  to 
come.  Over  in  the  Anderson  "gym" 
there  hangs  a  ten  thousand  dollar 
painting  by  Rowland,  of  New  York, 
in  which  the  central  figure  is  this 
character,  seated  on  the  box  of  his 
coach,  with  a  team  of  grey  horses 
conspicuously  reproduced. 

Murray  says  he  could  tell  some 
wild  and  awful  tales  of  the  good  old 
days  when  hazing  was  permitted  at 
Yale;  but,  like  Delia  Fox,  "truth 
compels  him  to  state"  he  wouldn't 
dare  give  the  boys  away. 

One  curious  point  in  his  thirty-six 
years  of  life  spent  at  Yale  is  the 
persistency  with  which  he  has  never 
driven  any  but  a  team  of  grey  horses. 
In  fact,  he  says,  he  has  never  owned 
any  but  "greys;"  yet,  when  face- 
tiously  asked    one    day    if    his   wife 


wasn't  "red  headed,"  he  indignantly 
replied,  "Well,  you  can  bet  your  life 
she  aint." 

So  much  for  Murray,  and  now  we 
come  to  William  H.  Kirk,  who  is 
indeed  the  autocrat  of  the  Yale  char- 
acters. A  Canadian  by  birth,  he  is 
always  the  gentilhoinme,  dressing  in 
quite  an  elegant,  up-to-date  style. 
Kirk  is  yet  a  young  man,  not  more 
than  thirty-two.  With  a  good  mind 
and  an  alertness  of  intuition,  he  has 
made  himself  very  popular  with  the 
students  since  his  entrance  among 
them  ten  years  ago. 

Kirk  is  a  trifle  too  aristocratic  to 
be  dubbed  a  "hackman."  His  is 
commission  work.  A  good  example 
of  his  methods  is  given  in  Prom, 
week,  when  the  demand  for  carri- 
ages is  tremendous.  Some  member 
of  the  Prom,  committee  sends  for 
him.  With  pencil  and  paper  he 
writes  down  about  how  many  carri- 
ages will  be  needed  the  night  of  the 


dance,  then  he  goes  to  the  various 
livery  and  stable  proprietors  and 
engages  his  carriages.  This  does 
away  with  numbers  and  the  dread- 
ful waits  "after  the  ball,"  for  not  a 
face  in  College  is  unknown  to  Kirk, 
who  stands  by  the  door  as  the  boys 
come  down  with  their  pretty  and 
best  girls,  looking  tired  yet  happy 
in  their  fluffy  dancing  frocks,  the 
staid  chaperone  carefully  following 
in  their  wake,  to  find  a  carriage  all 
ready  and  waiting,  a  bit  of  "  Kirk 
forethought"  that  the  students  are 
only  too  glad  to  pay  for. 

It  is  said  he  makes  a  great  deal  of 
money  during  the  year — somewhere 
between  two  and  three  thousand  dol- 
lars. But  this  autocrat  has  a  branch 
of  business  other  than  his  commis- 
sion work.  He  is  the  boys'  standby 
in  times  not  alone  of  prosperity,  but 
in  the  dark  days  of  actual  trouble. 
It  is  A.  Heberger,  however,  who 
holds    thr:    pre-eminent    position    in 


that  line.  He,  too,  is  an  aristocrat 
among  the  characters,  belonging  to 
the  best  of  Hebrew  families,  with  a 
membership  in  Harmonie  Club— the 
swell  Hebrew  club  of  New  Haven. 
Heberger  and  Kirk  are  very  good 
friends,  for  although  Kirk  has  tres- 
passed somewhat  upon  Heberger's 
territory,  he  does  not  in  the  least 
affect  his  position  with  the  students, 
all  of  whom  will  fully  understand 
what  is  meant  by  "a  standby  in 
times  of  joy  and  tribulation."  He- 
berger is  immensely  popular,  a  good 
listener  and  an  excellent  adviser. 

Perhaps  Joe  Wipper  should  be  con- 
sidered the  most  remarkable  of  any 
of  the  Yale  characters,  in  one  way 
at  least.  It  is  that  of  his  memory, 
which  is  almost  phenomenal.  Joe  is 
the  College  postman.  He  is  well 
put  up,  with  a  brilliant  complex- 
ion and  a  happy-go-lucky  sort  of 
manner  that,  added  to  his  remark- 
able memory,  have  made  him  a  great 


favorite  at  Yale.  With  a  leather  bag 
strapped  over  the  shoulder,  his  hands 
full  of  letters,  he  travels  over  the 
Campus  three  times  a  day.  Meeting 
a  group  of  students,  all  simultane- 
ously asking,  "  Anything  for  me 
to-day,  Joe?"  Wipper  runs  hastily 
over  his  mail  package,  handing  first 
one  a  letter  and  then  another.  He 
never  asks  their  names.  He  remem- 
bers the  name  and  face  of  every  man 
in  College.  At  Christmastide  there 
is  no  man  who  figures  in  Yale  life 
more  bountifully  remembered  than 
"Joe  the  Postman." 

Moses  is  a  character  indeed.  His 
real  name  is  Moses  Rosenblum.  He 
was  born  in  Hungary  in  1851, 
coming  to  America  soon  thereafter. 
He  speaks  fairly  good  English, 
slightly  broken  and  intensely  idio- 
matic, which  makes  him  a  very 
amusing  sort  of  person.  He  has 
a  name  besides  Moses.  It  is 
"  Shortv."       When    the    subject    of 


this    article    came     up,    Moses,    to- 
gether with  the  rest  of  the  men  who 
are  mentioned,  had,  of  course,  to  be 
interviewed.     It  was  in  Pach's  studio 
on  Chapel   street   that   he   was  put 
through  a  series  of  questions.     After 
it  was  all  over,  the  little  fellow  went 
down  stairs  and  out  upon  the  street. 
Meeting   Kirk   and   one  or  two  stu- 
dents he  said,  in  his  funny,  broken 
English,  "  I  go  up  stairs,  see  young 
lady  ;   she  ask  me  how  old  I  am.     I 
tell   her  and   she   give     me    these."' 
He   held    out    three    cigars    with    a 
gleeful   smile    at    the    conclusion   of 
his  speech,  and  turning,  would  have 
left    the    group    had     not     one     of 
them  said,   "You'd   better  lookout, 
Moses,  she'll  write  you  up."    With  a 
wink     that     conveyed     volumes    of 
meaning  he  made  answer,  "  Well,  I 
guess  she   can't    do   it   on    a   single 
date,"    and    striking     a    match,    he 
lighted    his    fragrant    Havana,    and 
sauntered  leisurely  away  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Campus. 


Moses  is  a  gambler  in  a  very  mod- 
est way.  His  legitimate  business  is 
that  of  a  second-hand  clothes  dealer. 
One  of  his  charms,  however,  is  his 
illegitimate  method  of  carrying  on 
the  business.  He  will  go  to  a  stu- 
dent's room,  and  with  a  most  insinu- 
ating smile  will  ask,  "Any  old 
clothes,  sir  ?  "  Clever  to  a  degree,  he 
is  up  to  a  point  in  just  what  chaps 
are  "broke,"  and  he  strikes  them 
always  on  a  day  when  they  "  must 
have  money  or  somebody's  life." 
"  Yes,  come  in,"  is  the  reply  ;  and  in 
Moses  goes,  to  look  over  an  array  of 
handsome  topcoats,  cutaways,  and 
trousers  of  all  kinds.  Selecting  care- 
fully from  the  stock,  he  asks  his  vic- 
tim what  he  will  take  foi  them.  If 
five  dollars,  or  if  ten — no  matter  what 
the  price — he  takes  a  nickel  from  his 
pocket,  and  flipping  it  into  the  air, 
says,  "Tails,  I  double  your 
^  '^%  money;  heads,  you  give  me 
^cp^^^^'your  clothes."     It  is  a  case 


of  chance  that  the  students  delight 
in;  yet,  as  the  Hungarian  is  a 
"lucky  dog,"  he  comes  out  ahead 
in  the  long  run. 

When  asked  if  he  had  any  favor- 
ites among  the  boys,  he  said,  very 
emphatically,  "  I  likes  dem  all  der 
same,  and  der  aint  one  dat  aint  got 
a  liking  for  me."  When  the  late 
William  Vanderbilt  was  at  Yale,  he 
was  very  kind  to  Moses,  and  since 
his  death,  a  picture  he  had  given  him 
of  himself,  taken  with  a  classmate, 
has  been  among  the  greatest  of 
Moses'  treasures. 

Bob  Jackson  has  too  recently  iden- 
tified himself  with  Yale  to  be  put 
upon  the  character  list ;  yet  he 
stands  a  very  good  chance  of  becom- 
ing as  popular  in  his  particular  line 
as  any  we  have  written  about.  His 
aptitude  for  money-making  is  aston- 
ishing. Jackson  runs  a  bootblack 
monopoly.  His  is  contract  work.  At 
the    beginning   of    every    month 


he  goes  to  his  student  customers, 
who  pay  him  a  dollar  apiece  every 
four  weeks.  For  that  one  dollar  he 
promises  to  take  care  of  their  boots 
for  them  and  to  press  three  pair  of 
trousers  a  week.  Last  year  he  made 
sufficient  money  out  of  his  enterprise 
to  guarantee  him  in  marrying,  an 
event  that  called  for  a  big  demonstra- 
tion from  the  boys,  who  made  up  a 
purse  to  present  him  on  his  wedding 
morning.  And  thus  Hfe  goes  at  Yale, 
with  the  horizon  each  year  showing 
new  and  unusual  features  that  are, 
and  ever  will  be,  the  subject  of  inter- 
est and  discussion  among  the  Alumni 
of  the  College,  as  well  as  among  peo- 
ple who  are  people  in  general. 


^ 


DATE  DUE 

Pardee,    Jean. 

The   Yale    man    up-to-date? 


^ 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILIP 


AA    001  150  081    6 


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